


A god's blade

by Taera



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Available in Russian, Bad Ending, Dark, Gen, angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 10:03:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8158246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taera/pseuds/Taera
Summary: When Outsider came to him Corvo couldn’t stop shivering; the cold power of the god soaked him through, and he was drowning in it, drowning in this lilac abyss, having no strength to swim out to the surface. And it scared him.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Клинок бога](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5485046) by [Tatrien (Taera)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taera/pseuds/Tatrien). 



> Well, originally it was written quite some time ago. And usually I'm not into such dark stuff, but this one just wanted to be out. And so it's here.  
> Not beta-ed.

When Outsider came to him Corvo couldn’t stop shivering; the cold power of the god soaked him through, and he was drowning in it, drowning in this lilac abyss, having no strength to swim out to the surface. And it scared him.

Attano tried to resist, yet he reminded himself of a fly that got into the web because of its own stupid free will. Black eyes pulled him in, they lured him lower, to the Void, lower and lower still. Corvo was suffocating in these sticky otherworldly waters, he was choking with deity’s intent attention, he coughed up black ooze instead of blood and salty sea water. And if it wasn’t for the pulsing mark on his left hand, Corvo would’ve run away in terror from this cold young man, with whose eyes an eternity looked upon Corvo, tired and indifferent. He would’ve never heeded smooth words of the black-eyed god, never listened to his lulling voice. If it wasn’t for the mark, Corvo would have surely gone mad from a single look into the violet infinity speckled with stars and nebulas when he appeared in the Void for the first time. For it was not a place for simple men. Brittle minds of mortals weren’t strong enough to survive the pernicious influence of chaos that commanded this reality.

Corvo breathed chaos. With every second that he had spent in this blue abyss, he felt how something gnawed at his mind. The mark was pulsing, pouring into him frosty energy, filling him with power and granting him unimaginable ease. And Corvo gave in to its subtle persuasions. He’d got engrossed in the Outsider’s gift. He accepted him.

Too overwhelmed with the power that he acquired along with the attention of the black-eyed deity and his mark, Corvo didn’t notice that solid earth under his feet was becoming more and more ethereal. When he visited the Void in his sleep, Attano didn’t see any cloudlets of pure indigo that came out from under his feet, and that accompanied his every move now. With unhealthy curiosity he peered at broken views of lilac and violet, listened to the distant trumpet voices of the leviathans. He reveled in how slowly, sensually, painfully deliciously he was losing his mind. The Outsider’s presence was like frosty kisses and touches just as cold to the heart, ethereal and… strange. And if after the second rune Corvo didn’t already start to breathe in the poisonous fog of the Void willingly, trying to satiate himself with it, fill himself with it, he would’ve recoiled in terror from the ice and eternity. He would not have accepted an indifferent caress that a loyal dog could’ve received. But the Outsider was crushing with only his presence, he made Corvo completely forget about himself; after that Attano was barely able to gather his mind back from the fragments half-vanished in the violet deep.

The mark burned with icy fire, pulsing in time with the god’s breathing, it was washing away Corvo’s personality little by little while he was awake, and especially strongly when he used the granted powers.

Gradually, Corvo lost pieces of himself, he was vanishing in his serving more and more. But the black-eyed deity didn’t ask this of Attano. He didn’t ask for anything except one thing.

Entertainment.

From the very beginning, Corvo felt this eagerness to… serve. To please. He didn’t notice when exactly he started to make decisions, following not his own interests and Emily’s wellbeing, but just a desire to entertain his deity. Corvo vaguely understood that he changed. It was in how Havelock looked at him, how Emily behaved around him, how Samuel reacted at him. Corvo saw that he changed. He was disappearing, with every new rune, with every visit the Outsider made – Corvo was sinking into the Void.

Indifference and fear melted into unquestionable obedience and delight. Corvo felt power – even if it was just borrowed – and this power was addicting. The more he used it, the more he wanted to use it. For when another bit of Attano’s personality filled up with the Void and went to the deep, he felt god’s intent attention like warm pieces of ice at the back of his neck. There even were moments when Corvo felt the Outsider’s presence without him actually appearing – like a taste of the sea on his tongue, like a whales’ song in his bones. The Outsider’s interest was intoxicating.

The Outsider’s interest was poisoning.

At every convenient moment Teague Martin tried to talk to Corvo, he did his very best in his attempt to rescue lord-protector from tenacious grip of the black-eyed deity. But the Overseer was late. He did not understand what the Outsider’s attention did to a man. He could not understand until he himself tried this poisonous fruit with a taste of indigo. Frosty fingers curled around Corvo’s wrists the moment he thought about opening his mouth and telling Martin how wonderful the Void is. Frosty fingers were warning him, and so Corvo remained silent. The Overseer would never understand. His words about the Seven Strictures touched nothing in Corvo’s soul, for in the very deep of his being there was the Void now, cold, viscous, absorbing with whispering stars and splashing waves. And it grew. With every interesting deed. With every rune. With every amulet. With every violet dream.

A blood the color of ink was flowing in his veins in those dreams, and it seemed more appropriate than the crimson liquid with which he bled in the real world.

Emily didn’t hug him anymore. Samuel didn’t talk to him anymore. Piero started to get nervous in his presence. Martin watched him fall with sad eyes. It all would’ve angered Corvo if he wasn’t already indifferent to all that didn’t catch the Outsider’s interest. Corvo learned to decipher the pulsation in the mark and the icy kisses at the back of his neck and understand whether he attracted his deity’s attention or not, and it became his sole compass when making a decision.

Corvo Attano was lord-protector of the Empress, was the Killer in a Mask, was a betrayer and was betrayed. When all had come to an end, when those responsible were brought to justice and innocents were tormented and rescued, the Outsider came into him. A will of the black-eyed deity filled to the brim with inky darkness the emptiness that was burned out in Corvo’s soul. And now, if he wanted to enjoy the Void, all he had to do was simply look into the mirror.


End file.
